Skinny Love
by mysteryklainer
Summary: A malicious and sarcastic but reserved Kurt shows up at Dalton one January day to be Blaine's new roommate. He's not what Blaine expected, and despite his guarded demeanor finds himself falling for the boy. But what could he be hiding? Not about and eating disorder / mental illness. Eventual Klaine, I suck at summaries. Rated for language. Third genre would be hurt/comfort
1. Part I

Hi :) I'm Sami. Enjoy the first Chapter, and while I hate self-promotion if you want you could check out Secrets Can Not Be Kept...?

Full Summary: A malicious and sarcastic but reserved Kurt shows up at Dalton one January day to be Blaine's new roommate. He's not what Blaine expected, and despite his guarded demeanor finds himself falling for the boy. But what could he be hiding? Not about and eating disorder / mental illness. Eventual Klaine, I suck at summaries.

This was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but I figured I'd break it up.

* * *

Day Zero - Tuesday, January 13th

Blaine is doodling absently in his notebook as his teacher goes on about something... scientific, he guesses. It's AP chemistry, after all. His pen stops when he realizes the teacher's drone has been silenced. He looks up.

"Hello, Mr. Montgomery." Blaine fails to hide a snigger; his teacher, Mr. Sullie, had taken a particular disliking to Wes (and Wes' best friend and partner in crime, David Thompson) after one of their failed experiments had resulted in such a huge stink bomb the whole wing had to be evacuated. It's two years later, and Mr. Sullie is still holding a grudge for just that particular stunt. Blaine can go on for years with all the others.

"What could possibly be so important you must interrupt my class?" Mr. Sullie drawls, reminding Blaine of Severus Snape. After sending a glare at Blaine, Wes replies mock solemnly,

"Ah, sir, the Dean has asked me to get Blaine Anderson? It's important." The man sighs in response, a heaving sigh as though he's just been asked to clean up the ever-present puke in the boys' bathroom.

"Fine. Mr. Anderson?"

"Oh, and take your stuff." Wes adds. So Blaine does, and follows his friend down the hall. As soon as they are out of earshot, Blaine's cackle breaks the before silence.

"Aw, shut up, Anderson!" Wes complains.

"No, you are totally just…" He struggles to find the right word, and his breath. Blaine always finds Wes being polite hilarious.

"Whupped?" Wes suggests tiredly. "I've heard it before, Blaine. Especially from David. That said, I repeat, shut up!" They banter all the way to the Dean's office. They sober up then, and Blaine knocks loudly on the door. The Dean always had a bit of a hearing problem.

"Come in." Said man calls, and it sounds as though he's just been laughing. But then, he's always laughing. The two boys open the door gingerly. The short, fat man is at his desk, his cheeks in fact red from laughing, just as Blaine thought, his bald head shining in the light of the office. His blue eyes are focused on a small boy in a chair across from him; Blaine inhales sharply at the sight of the boy.

He has pale, pale skin that reminds Blaine of a porcelain doll. His skin is stretched across his cheekbones tightly, too tightly, accentuating his thinness, almost sickly thinness. The boy's lips are pursed into a frown that seems almost a grimace, his petite nose scrunched up, almost in distaste. His hands clasp almost desperately to the armrests of the chair, and looking closely, Blaine can see he is slightly shaking. Light brown hair falls covering one eye, and what eyes they are! His eyes are magnificent. Blaine can't help but admire them, swirling with grey and blue and oh- now green and now grey again. But when the boy looks up, into Blaine's own eyes, he is not prepared for what he is met with, for those eyes are filled with a piercing anger, and hatred, that could only have been fueled but many years of unimaginable pain. Blaine jolts at those eyes.

And suddenly it occurs to him who this boy might be. This boy might be his…

The Dean follows the boy's gaze. He smiles even wider, which seemed impossible a moment before.

"Blaine! Wesley! Come in!" He says as though greeting old friends. "Kurt, this is Wesley and Blaine." He gestures to each respective teen. "Blaine, Wesley, this is Kurt."

Kurt. So the beautiful boy has a name.

'Beautiful! No. Not beautiful.' Blaine scolds himself. 'You can't think of boys you've never even said a word to as beautiful.'

"H-hello." Kurt stutters, and then he looks angry, almost as angry as his eyes, but his stutter went unheard, really, for his tone matched those eyes. Blaine wonders what he could possibly be so mad about. Nonetheless, he sticks out his hand:

"I'm Blaine." He smiles, hoping to get the boy to warm to them. But if anything the boy grows more hostile, and he recoils away from the outstretched hand.

"I know." He replies coldly, but his voice is wonderful, and though Blaine doesn't want to he thinks it sounds like music. "So I've been told." The Dean clears his throat.

"So Blaine, have you guessed why you're here?"

"Well sir," Blaine ignores Kurt's snicker. "You talked to me about a mid-year transfer. This is him, correct?" And before the Dean can answer, Kurt interjects in the fakest cheeriest voice Blaine has ever heard,

"Yeah, I'm the new mid-year transfer! Want a medal?"

"Kurt." The Dean says gently. Blaine squirms, and the brown-haired boy sinks down in his chair, and crosses his arms like a child. Blaine bites his lip to keep from laughing. But at the same time, the Dean's approach surprises him. Although the Dean is a very kind man, especially to his students, he typically doesn't allow such behaviour, especially from a new student. But now he is back to his fond smile, and for the first time Blaine wonders if he is always so happy…

"Blaine, you will be Kurt's mentor and, as one of the only boys with a free bed, his roommate." Blaine's cheeks redden at the mention of the free bed; after all, he had found his ex-roommate having… sexual relations with a girl on the bed when he had come back to his dorm from dinner that night. The Dean had found out, and needless to say was not pleased.

Now, Kurt grimaces. Blaine finds himself growing irritated; what's wrong with him?

"Um, excuse me?" Blaine startles. He'd forgotten Wes was even there. "Why exactly am I here?" The Dean brightens:

"Wesley." He says, ignoring Wes' cringe at his given name. "Kurt's father tells me Kurt loves music, particularly singing." Kurt, who had been examining his nails, looks up sharply, opening his mouth to interject, but the Dean seems blissfully unaware of this and continues. "So, being in charge of the Warblers, I was wondering if you could get a spot for him." If Blaine is not mistaken (which he isn't; he's the lead singer of the Warblers, not that he's bragging) Wes is part of a three member council that is in charge of the Warblers (which is, by the way, the school's acapella show choir) and although he is the head of this council, he has to consult the other members before making any decisions. Also, there are no more spots in the club. But Wes smiles and nods, and this action reminds Blaine of why people hate prep school boys- it looks so damn fake!

"Of course sir, I'm sure Kurt will be a lovely addition to the club. Although, he has to audition."

"No, I don't want to. I'm not joining your stupid little club. You wish." They had all seemed to forget Kurt was there at all, like two parents discussing their children they must decide what to do with. So his outburst surprises them.

"Well, what do you want?" The Dean asks, not unkindly, and Kurt scowls.

"I want to get out of this hellhole, away from all this stupid rich kids who think their lives are so terrible because they've got Daddy issues. He spits with such malice Wes flinches, but Blaine, if they were not in the Dean's office, he would've yelled back at him!

'Jerk! You don't know a thing about my life!' Though Blaine supposes he doesn't know anything about Kurt, or his life, either.

"Kurt, you can't go anywhere else and you know it." The Dean's voice is suddenly sharp. And then Kurt is silent, silent because it seems there is nothing else he can say. The Dean is back to smiles and laughs once more, and in a light, happy tone, he says:

"Blaine, why don't you show Kurt around? He has already seen your room, and his things are there. Go on, you're excused from classes. Wesley, go to lunch." Wes obediently leaves, telling Blaine,

"On. Time." And walks out. Blaine has… a reputation for being late to Warblers practice, and Wes is always on his back for it. Blaine just rolls his eyes and turns to the boy in the chair.

"Shall we go?" Kurt snorts but stands up.

"Good afternoon, sir." The Dean's lips turn upward in amusement.

"Goodbye, Blaine." They exit the room and Kurt mimics,

"Good afternoon, sir." In a high, squeaky voice.

"Sounds more like you, actually." Blaine responds dryly, which is true Kurt's voice is high, much higher than the average boy. 'If he were to sing,' Blaine thinks, 'He would definitely be a countertenor.' Kurt scowls, and Blaine has a feeling Kurt's going to be doing that a lot.

* * *

It's Kurt's first night at Dalton, and his presence causes Blaine to lie awake. One of these days he has to tell Kurt of his bed's former inhabitant. It's strange having someone in that ed and having silence. Thomas snored really loudly; guess that's what happens when you snort too much coke. Suddenly the silence is broken:

"Help! Stop! Please!" Kurt's pleas are loud; almost shouts causing Blaine to jump out of bed.

"Kurt!" He hisses. "Kurt, be quiet! People are sleeping!" Kurt continues to toss and turn and shriek, so Blaine begins to shake him. "Wake up!" It becomes clear that the boy is not going to wake up, so Blaine grabs Kurt's phone off the nightstand beside Kurt's bed. He goes into the most called list, figuring whoever on top will know what to do, being close to Kurt. The first number is Finn (89). So he calls him.

It rings. And rings. And rings. Blaine is about to hang up, as Kurt seems to be getting louder, but the ringing silences and stops him.

"Hello?" It's either a young man or an older teen speaking groggily.

"Um, hi, is this Finn?"

"Yeah.. wait!" Finn seems to become much more alert and sounds a bit suspicious, but frightened. "Who are you and why are you calling with Kurt's phone? Is he okay?" Blaine looks to Kurt, who is decidedly not okay, and has begun to cry in his sleep. "Hello?" Blaine adverts his eyes.

"Um, I'm Kurt's new roommate… Blaine Anderson… and you were the first on the call list so I thought…" Blaine trails off. In hindsight, maybe Blaine should have called Kurt's dad, who was second on the list (63). But Finn redeems himself.

"He's having a nightmare, isn't he? He gets those… he says they're about The Accident." The Accident? "There's nothing you can do, dude. You just gotta wait till it's over. Don't try to wake him up… I got socked in the face." Blaine winces; he got lucky, then.

"But Finn… he's going to wake everyone up!" Finn's next words are sympathetic, but dismissive.

"Sorry, dude. Less you wanna get punched. Just try to sleep. He'll shut up eventually." Blaine bites his lip, but nods, then remembers Finn.

"Okay. Thanks. And Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"What's The Accident?" There's a pregnant pause in which Blaine can practically see Finn going white.

"Shit! Blaine, please don't tell him I told you that. He hates me enough already." After a moment of hesitance, Blaine says,

"Okay. As long as you don't tell him we talked." Because I really don't want to get on Kurt's bad side. He's already mean enough. "And Finn?"

"What?" Now Finn seems to be growing cross, but Blaine asks the question that has been on his mind the whole time.

"Are you Kurt's boyfriend?" Finn chokes on the other line. "You alright?"

"We're brothers, dude. How'd you know Kurt was gay? He sure as hell didn't tell you." Blaine grins.

"Finn, I'm gay. Which means I have an awesome gaydar."

"Well, even if you hadn't tell me I would have known you were because no straight boy says gaydar." Blaine rolls his eyes. After another pause, Finn says, "Look, I'm a pretty shitty brother and Kurt's a pretty shitty brother. But you're boyfriend material, I mean, you're calling me, a stranger, up at fucking midnight, to help Kurt, who is also a stranger." Actually, I just want to shut him up, Blaine thinks, but does not voice that opinion. "So to me, you're boyfriend material." He concludes once again, and Blaine doubts Kurt's looking for a boyfriend, no matter how hot he happens to be- stop! He's not hot!- but he replies,

"And?"

"And if you hurt my brother I'll rip your balls off." They both laugh, but Blaine knows that Finn's serious. "Now, I gotta go. I have school tomorrow and I'm tired and it happens to be the middle of the night."

"Yeah, sorry Finn. Night." He ends the call and sighs, laying down on his bed. Sure enough, just like Finn said, Kurt's silent. But Blaine still can't sleep. This is going to be a long night.

* * *

Blaine is almost asleep when another scream rips from Kurt's throat. Blaine groans and puts a pillow over his head, trying to take Finn's advice and ignore the racket. It grows louder when someone starts to pound on the door. Blaine, delirious, stumbles to the door and throws it open. There Wes stands, his black, almond shaped eyes narrowed into slits. David is behind him, arms crossed.

"You mind?" Some of us are trying to sleep." David whispers angrily, and Wes mumbles something incoherent. Blaine reddens,

"I'm sorry! He won't stop, and Finn said not to…"

"Who's Finn?"

"His brother." At David's raised eyebrows Blaine continues hastily, "That's not important! Look, he'll shut up in a moment. You two can go back to fucking or whatever you two do behind closed doors." The two other boys scowl, and Wes awakens just enough to growl,

"Blaine, we're friends. For the last. Fucking. Time!" Blaine raises his hands in surrender.

"Alright, alright. I see you two are on your periods, so why don't you go prance back to room 5C?" David rolls his eyes.

"Don't say we didn't warn you, Anderson- we're probably not the only people Kurt woke up." And they storm back together to room 5C down the hall. Blaine sighs and once again plops down on the bed, and once again thinks, 'This is going to be a long night.'

* * *

Day One, January 14th

Kurt blinks and rubs his eyes. According to his clock and its blaring alarm, it is six-fifteen AM. Class starts at seven-thirty. Breakfast is at seven. Why had he set his alarm for that early? It's not like he does his stupid moisturizing routine anymore. And they have uniform- not that he ever wears anything besides sweatpants and tee-shirts otherwise.

He wanders into the kitchen (could he even call it that? It is just a microwave and a mini-fridge and a counter) and finds a disheveled Blaine standing by the counter with a cup of coffee, and he wears pyjamas with a Dalton logo on each article of clothing and a half-asleep, frustrated expression. Kurt takes a moment to analyze the teen- his hair, of which had been heavily gelled down with an obscene amount of the stuff yesterday, was now a black, curly mess that reminded Kurt of a sheep. He smirks; the hair is highly comical after seeing Blaine so uptight and put together. He's got nice pink lips that look highly kissable- and no, Kurt did not just think he had nice lips! Or that they were… kissable in any way! It was just an observation, if he did at all! Blaine's skin is tan, unlike Kurt's own. He has a tiny bit of stubble… and Kurt has the sudden urge to run his hands over it but he shoves that thought away as well as a blush. Long eyelashes sweep down as Blaine blinks… and suddenly their eyes meet. Kurt feels some sharp sort of spark, and Blaine seems to feel it too as he starts at the eye contact… Blaine's hazel eyes have little flecks of black in them, and Kurt loves it. Then all too quickly the other boy's orbs dart away, and Kurt ignores the way his heart sinks when they do.

"You didn't tell me you screamed in your sleep." If Kurt's not mistaken, Blaine sounds a bit angry.

"Well, sorry. What was I going to say, 'Oh, by the way, sorry if I wake you, but I'm going to be screaming all night'?

"Would have been better than nothing." Blaine mutters. "Look, Dalton gives out free coffee every morning to the students. Come on." Blaine is surprised when Kurt actually does go into his trunk (he hasn't unpacked just yet) to get his uniform and slips into the bathroom to get dressed and ready.

* * *

"This is actually decent. Though, it's not a Lima Bean nonfat mocha." They are walking up and down the halls, having nothing better to do. Blaine and Kurt had just bought their free coffees from the cafeteria, and they sip them as they amble. The former boy almost chokes on his drink at the other's remark.

"Wow." He smirks. Kurt is smiling then, just a light friendly smile, but a smile nonetheless. "That's the first time I've heard anything more than a nasty quip from you." And then Kurt remembers, and his small smile is gone, replaced with his typical angry scowl.

"Yeah, well." He pauses as though trying to think of a witty comeback though Blaine wants none at all. "Don't get used to it." Is what he settles on. He checks his watch. "It's seven-twenty-five, and while I don't give a fuck I have nothing better to do than go to class. I'm going to go. This is what I get for getting thrown in a boarding school."

Blaine watches Kurt leave with a fascination on Kurt ass that he wishes he didn't have, almost as much as he wishes thoughts of Kurt (and his screams) didn't keep him up all night.

* * *

Day Three- Friday, January 16th

It's Kurt third day, and he once again hesitantly sits with Blaine and his friends as he has been doing for the past few days. Blaine looks to the boy's tray, and there sits one, plump, ripe grapefruit. Only.

"Are you getting anything else?" David asks, mirroring Blaine's own thoughts.

Kurt, who has at this point sat down, has begun cutting the grapefruit into quarters, its tart juice squeezing out of the fruit and onto the tray, making a pool of liquid that seemed to grow rapidly in size.

"Not that it's any of your business," Kurt says, his tone icy as usual and without glancing up from his grapefruit. "But I'm not hungry. Is that a crime?" Actually, Kurt feels sick to his stomach with anticipation (and admittedly a bit of fear) for his first weekend with the boys at Dalton. But he wouldn't tell them that; he worked hard to put up a front!

But he found himself slipping and saying things that Old Kurt would say around Blaine. Stupid, funny, amazing, sexy Blaine. 'No! Stop it!' Kurt scolds himself. 'You're not looking for a boyfriend. You don't need anyone. He's not sexy. Besides, who says he wants you? No one wants you. You're just a pathetic little-' And then Kurt shoves his thoughts away, like he always does.

Old Kurt is how he refers to himself before The Accident. But if you ask him, he'll deny it. Old Kurt love to shop, and fashion. New Kurt wears sweatpants and stained tee-shirts whenever possible. Fancy is jeans. Old Kurt loves to sing and-

Stop this. He needs to stop this.

Even when he looks into Blaine's stupid eyes.

Blaine clears his throat. "So um-"

"I heard that little Blainey-boo's got a crush." Wes interrupts. Blaine glares at him. "Who do you think it is, Kurtie-puss?" Wes asks Kurt around a mouth full of food. Now it's Kurt who glares, and it's filled with such malice Wes shudders.

"Crushes are dumb." He says this as though it is a royal decree from the king himself. "So is love. It's an illusion," His voice is steadily raising, and he ignores their confused stares. "That only the lucky people get, and even then their hearts are broken!" He's yelling now, and heads turn. "Whether they die or break your heart into pieces because you find out everything is a lie," His eyes are misting, and Blaine gets the feeling this is not just about him and his (nonexistent) crush as his, David, and Wes' eyes widen so that there is a white ring around their irises. Wes, for his part, never expected such a reaction. But then, no one else did either.

"Love is an illusion, that makes you co-dependent on someone that will only break you!" His voice slowly lowers in volume as he finishes speaking. "Besides," He adds bitterly. "Some people don't deserve love." This final declaration is quiet, and then he is done. He sits back down, as he has risen in his speech, ignoring the stares and the heavy air in the hushed room, and then a jeering voice echoes throughout the room.

"You mean worthless people like you?" Kurt stands again, and saunters over to the brown-haired, scrawny, smirking boy who had just made the comment.

"Yes." He says lowly to the boy. "Worthless people like me." He storms for the room, a certain finger in the air, and calls with his back to the silent cafeteria as he walks,

"And don't you ever call me Kurtie-puss!" With that, as Kurt disappears, everyone slowly resumes their lunches, the heavy silence replaced with only soft whispers and the clanging of forks and knives against plates.


	2. Part II (Point 5)

I am back! I have reappeared from the depths of the deep dark realms I had retreated into!

...oops. Sorry for no updates for a disgustingly long amount of time. This is the first half of part two, because I had to update whether I was done with it or not, I decided.

And that's if you even remember this story...

So yeah. Hopefully you like this half chapter.

_**Part II (and a half)**_

Day Five- January 18th

The sun is shining through the clouds brightly, almost obnoxiously when he opens his eyes for the first time that morning. He rubs them blearily, and turns over and buries his head in his pillow.

"Kurt?" He doesn't respond and feigns sleep. His roommate sighs and Kurt can feel his presence draw closer. "Kurt, are you awake?" Now Kurt sighs, but to the other boy's surprise Kurt does turn around to face him and sits up.

"Hey, Blaine." He grumbles tiredly. Blaine lights up, and god, Kurt wishes he would just _tone it down a little!_

"You feeling any better?" It could have been an innocent question- Kurt _had_ said he was sick yesterday to avoid meeting people, among other things he knew would happen that weekend- but there is a suspicious undertone in Blaine voice that bothers Kurt.

"A little." He answers, as stiffly as one can be lying in bed in their pyjamas.

"That's good." Blaine says. "We missed you yesterday." Kurt snorts. "No, really!"

"Please. No one ever misses me." Kurt doesn't mean to say it, so it surprises him just as much as it surprises Blaine. And Kurt is taken aback when Blaine grabs a chair and pulls it to sit beside his bed.

"No, really." He repeats. "You were sick the whole day." Which makes Kurt think maybe he is not suspicious at all.

"Yeah, sick." Kurt says back in a monotone. Blaine frowns.

"I know you don't like me, okay?" He exclaimed in exasperation. "I don't know what I did… but maybe you'll like some of my friends! Come on, please?"

_Why do you care so much?,_ Kurt wonders.

"Then I'll leave you alone." Blaine finishes. Kurt groans in response, but inwardly perks up; no Blaine to fuck him up and make him blush. He swings his legs over the bed and glares at Blaine expectantly.

"Oh. You want me to- oh. okay. Um, meet you in the common room."

And then Blaine dashes out. Kurt sighs and slowly begins his day.

* * *

The first thing Kurt's eyes land on when he gets to the common room is a clock. His jaw drops slightly at the number on the clock. He looks for Blaine in the crowd, his eyes narrowed angrily. He spots the other boy, and at seeing Kurt's glare, Blaine smiles nervously at him. Kurt storms over to Blaine.

"Do you have any idea what fucking time it is?" Kurt seethes. "It is six fourteen in the fucking morning!" Wes comes out from behind Blaine. His lips quirk up into an amused smile.

"It's Saturday. We have to get there early. Let's go!"

"You all are too fucking happy for the morning." Kurt grumbles, but they start to run off, Kurt being dragged by Blaine with interlocked hands, but Kurt tugs away from Blaine and Blaine stops.

"Wait," Kurt snaps. "Tell me where we're going."

"We can't. It would ruin the surprise." David answers matter-of-factly.

"What surprise?" Again Wes' lips quirk up into a small smile and he says, "The meaning of a surprise, my dear," He says with a haughtiness about him that does nothing for Kurt's mood, "Is that you don't know what it is. Are you coming or not?"

'Go,' Old Kurt screams at him. 'It will be fun.' And, against Kurt's better judgment, he listens. And when Blaine takes his hand well, he doesn't rip it away and snap at him, no, he tries to ignore it and the fact that he likes it there.

And when he finds out they're playing _paintball_ of all things (It's a good thing he doesn't care about his clothes- You see,_ Old Kurt,_ still a good idea?) he sucks it up- pretty much, anyway.

"Paintball?" He says incredulously. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

David sends him a glare; he's lost count of all the times he's heard Kurt use the word _fuck_ this morning. But Kurt continues, looking inside. There's no one there besides one boy who appears to be working there inside. "And why, if we're playing paintball, are we here at-" He checks his watch. "Six thirty one, again, _in the morning?_" Blaine answers this before any of his friends can retort.

"Well, Kurt, this is the only place in the area a paintball crazed boy can go-"

"And with everyone in Dalton-" Wes interrupts.

"Besides you of course-" David cuts in, but stops with a glare from Blaine-

"Loving paintball, you have to get an early morning spot, we have learned."

"Fine." Kurt says irascibly. "You know, what, I will play the godforsaken game." He glares at Blaine. "If for _nothing_ but to please_ you_." He drawls. Blaine positively beams and literally skips as he goes over to open the door for Kurt. The boy sighs and almost gracefully saunters through the doorway.

The kid Kurt had seen from outside, now looking at him, is much younger than he'd thought. He has zits along his hairline on the side of his face. His pale complexion exposes his fatigue in red blotches on his cheeks and forehead, his neck looking sticky with sweat.

The boy had a faux hawk, and his hair had been dyed a tacky green some time ago, Kurt decides. It looks like he needs to get it done again soon. Kurt frowns. There's something almost scarily familiar about the boy, but he shoves it aside. He _will_ play paintball. Because no matter how much of an asshole he is now, Kurt does _not_ go against his word. Ever.

The boy's name tag reads _Aaron_, and Kurt's stomach lunches, and he feels bile rise up in his throat. _Aaron_ looks up and Kurt feels faint.

The last time he had seen those eyes, they had been cold and unforgiving. The last time he had heard the voice spewing words from those lips they were saying,

_'Au revoir, faggot.'_

Yes, the boy's lips are moving and Kurt can hear a low voice uttering words, but he can't hear them. Kurt is hit with a sudden wave of dizziness and before he knows what's happening, his legs give out and he crashes to the floor.

Blaine watches in horror as Kurt's head collides with the floor and it looks as though it_ bounces_- fucking _bounces_- and he swallows thickly.

"What, what, what did you _do_?" He murmurs to himself. "What did you do?" There's a bit of blood leaking down Kurt's forehead, and when Blaine lifts the hair he sees a small gash on the side of the other boy's forehead. Just as Blaine is getting up to get some paper towels to wipe Kurt's cut, the boy stirs- well, more like jolts- and he shakes his head slightly, wincing at doing so, and groggily opens his eyes as though awaking from a long sleep, when in reality he had only lost consciousness for a minute or so.

Kurt's head is throbbing.

"Hey, Kurt," Blaine smiles in relief. "How do you feel?" He asks gently. Kurt doesn't even have the energy to look up at Blaine as his head droops and his deadpanned response comes out near a soft rasp,

"My head feels like someone is continually smashing my head with a mallet, and my stomach feels as though I've been punched. And honestly I feel kind of dizzy, too…" Well. Same Kurt. Still complaining.

"Come on. Let's get you up." Slowly Kurt gets to his feet with Blaine's help, David and Wes standing awkwardly to the side.

"Sorry about this-" Blaine squints and the boy's name tag. "Aaron, but we have to go." Kurt head snaps up to take another look at the green-haired boy, but this time Aaron catches his eye.

_"Kurt?"_ He exclaims almost nervously, trying to force himself to sound happy.

Kurt's already dulled eyes sink in disappointment. "Aaron." He says tightly, with as much authority as he can manage. He rises to his feet as quickly as he can, ignoring the dizziness that comes with it.

"Kurt-" Blaine begins, gripping his arm.

"Blaine, just shut up." His normal vindictiveness is just barely there. "I want to leave." He says this in a hushed tone, and his eyes flit to Aaron, and to his surprise, Blaine catches the smallest hint of… fear? In Kurt's eyes. "Blaine. We have to go back." Kurt seems to be oblivious to the fact Aaron can hear his every word.

"What's wrong, KK?" Aaron says, the smallest bit of _mocking_ in his tone. Kurt's eyes flash and he glares at the boy just as he had glared at Wes only several days before.

"Don't you ever call me that." He growls back at Aaron. Blaine had never heard someone growl their words before, but, he thinks, that must be the only way to describe it. Close to animalistic. Kurt turns to Blaine and his voice wavers and is sarcastically sweet when he asks,

"Can we please just go back?" Kurt had never said the word please before to him and meant it, so he does cock an eyebrow up at that. Kurt's eyes challenge him to say no.

"Come on." Blaine says to Wes and David, who stand closer to the door looking just as, if not more, confused than Blaine. But they follow as Blaine drags a dizzy, borderline-delirious Kurt behind him by the hand and out of the building.


End file.
